


and all the flowers will bloom

by lazyfish, Nazezdha321



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday, Gen, Mentions of Dousy, Mentions of StaticQuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazezdha321/pseuds/Nazezdha321
Summary: Five birthdays throughout Daisy's life.
Relationships: Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 26
Kudos: 80





	and all the flowers will bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanctuaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/gifts).



**1.**

By the time Daisy Johnson made her way into the world, she had already given her father no less than ten minor heart attacks – the most recent of which was on the day she was born, when she decided to come in the middle of the night and her mother decided cleaning the house was an appropriate reaction to going into labor. Cal had possibly stolen a car to make sure they got to the hospital on time, but even potential grand theft auto was worth it for the tiny pink bundle in his arms.

Cal didn’t think anyone was appropriately prepared for just how small a newborn was. He certainly wasn’t ready for how Daisy’s entire body fit neatly in his arm, her head resting against the crook of his elbow. Her fairy floss hair, dark as her mother’s, stuck up every which way no matter how many times he tried to smooth it down, and she was perfect.

 _Daisy_. Jiaying had picked their daughter’s English name before her Mandarin one but hadn’t been forthcoming about why it had to be Daisy, particularly. Cal hadn’t had any objections to the name – he wouldn’t object to any name so long as it was attached to the perfect little human in his arms. He had joked that since Jiaying had picked her English name he ought to pick the Mandarin one, but she had insisted otherwise, which was probably for the better. Despite his best efforts, Cal’s Mandarin was still… rudimentary was the word Jiaying used when she was being polite. _Awful_ was the word Cal used when he was being honest.

His wife was asleep on the hospital bed, entirely exhausted from the ordeal of bringing a new life into the world. Cal glanced over at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had never dreamed when he left home for Doctors Without Borders, he would find the love of his life and have a child with her. He would have never dreamed he would have something so small and so precious in his arms.

There were many things Cal had never dreamed of –

Losing his daughter was one of them. 

**2.**

Skye was almost skipping on her way home from school. She had gotten an A on the science test, and Mr. Dave and Mrs. Jolie were going to be _so happy_. Sure, she stayed up all night studying, but it was worth it! She got the best score in the class and she knew that she beat Clara’s score, and Clara was the smartest. Maybe they’d forgive her for last night, too, especially because it was her birthday today and nobody liked to be mad at people on their birthdays. 

She clutched her backpack straps, the biggest smile she’d ever had on her face as she walked up to the gate, then into the front yard. The house looked the same as it had for the last two years, but there was a new car in the driveway. It was a big black SUV.

Maybe they got a new car. Maybe they thought Skye wouldn’t want to go car shopping with them (she would do anything with them, but she knew that a lot of kids don’t like car shopping). Maybe they went shopping for something else too. Maybe something for her birthday! She opened the front door. “Mr. Dave? Mrs. Jolie?” Skye called. “I got an A on my test!” 

Skye ran into the kitchen, so excited to see how happy they were - 

\- and saw Sister Anna talking with Mr. Dave and Mrs. Jolie next to the blue marble countertops. 

“Mrs. Jolie?” she asked, confused. 

She turned eight years old today. 

_This isn’t fair._

Skye’s eyes burned and she could feel tears start to slip down her face as Sister Anna and Mr. Dave turned around. She’d seen the look on Sister Anna’s face before. That’s the _go pack your bag_ look. That’s the _you screwed it up again_ look _._ That’s the _this isn’t your home and these people aren’t your parents_ look. 

“Mary Sue,” Sister Anna said, promptly stepping in front of Skye’s foster parents. Her former foster parents. “Please go get your things. Do you need a trash bag?” 

Because that’s what she was, Skye thought bitterly, trash. 

“Can I… can I please keep the backpack?” she asked quietly. 

Mrs. Jolie glanced at Mr. Dave. “Yes, you may.” 

Sister Anna gestured upstairs. 

Skye turned around and ran up the stairs. She couldn’t bear to look into Mr. Dave and Mrs. Jolie’s faces anymore. She couldn’t believe this. It was so unfair. It was her birthday, and she got 100% on the science test, and she… she tried _so hard_ to do everything right. Sister Mackenzie said she did everything right. She only slipped up once. 

_Once._ She called Mrs. Jolie ‘Mom’ last night. 

She thought… she thought Mrs. Jolie might like it. 

Skye shoved her few clothes into her backpack, stealing two pairs of socks and a comfy sweatshirt from the closet. She figured that she could get away with that if she piled everything on top of that. Her toothbrush and toothpaste. Her hairbrush. Her little hula girl figurine. 

She left behind her school things. Her books and folders and pencils and crayons. Her homework that she wouldn’t need to finish and the science test she’d been so excited to show Mr. Dave and Mrs. Jolie. Skye glared at the clean white furniture that they’d bought for her. The blue walls that Mr. Dave stenciled white clouds onto. They told her she didn’t have to be Mary Sue, not if she didn’t want to. 

They told her she was their whole world. They named her Skye. They told her they loved her. 

_So much for that._

Skye grabbed her black crayon and scribbled angrily in the corner of the room, behind the door. They wouldn’t find it until she’s long gone. But they _would_ find it, and she hoped they would feel something. Something for what they were doing to her. 

“Mary Sue!” called Sister Anna in her stupid fake voice. “Do you need any help?” 

Skye put the last of her things in the backpack and zipped it shut. She ran as quietly as she could to the bathroom and took all the soap she could fit because the soap at the orphanage was scratchy and she was allergic but nobody cares. 

She walked downstairs, trying to stop crying. 

“My name is Skye,” she said. Mrs. Jolie looked like she’d burst into tears at that. 

“ _Mary Sue,_ ” Sister Anna replied. “Please go get in the car.” 

Skye looked back at Mr. Dave and Mrs. Jolie. 

She got in the car and slammed the door shut.

\---

“Oh. You’re back,” Elizabeth said when Skye walked into the room. “Well, Betty left, so you can have her bunk.” She pointed to a top bunk in the back of the room. 

“Thanks,” Skye replied. Elizabeth shrugged. She looked the same as she always did. Straight blonde hair, buck teeth, pretty green eyes that always made Skye jealous. Pale skin with red patches because she was allergic to the soap too. She looked a little bit older than Skye, but that was only because Skye was small and Sister Jane always gave Elizabeth more food than the rest of them. In reality, Elizabeth was a few months younger than Skye was. 

“What’d you do this time, Mary Sue?” asked Katie. 

“It’s Skye,” Skye corrected her. 

“What?” 

“My name is Skye.” 

“The Sisters won’t like that,” Penelope said worriedly. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Okay, well, what’d you do, _Skye?_ ” Katie said. 

Skye considered. She called Mrs. Jolie her mother. She made a best friend. She turned seven years old, and then she turned eight. She painted the walls of her room. She prayed even though she didn’t really believe in God. She had good days. She had bad days. 

“I dunno,” she muttered. “Maybe they just didn’t like me.” 

“Sorry, Skye,” Elizabeth replied sadly. “At least you missed a few of Sister Jane’s lectures.” 

“Yeah,” Skye agreed, but she wasn't really listening. 70% of the earth was water. Killer whales were actually dolphins. There were more than 125 billion galaxies in the universe. Everything was on the science test. 

And she got everything right. 

**3.**

“Skye,” Coulson said as he walked into the common room of the Playground. “I was reviewing your personnel file to approve your next clearance level promotion, and something caught my eye.”

 _Oh, here we go again._ Skye pasted a smile onto her face and turned to look at her team leader-cum-director. “Yeah, A.C.?”

“Today’s your birthday.”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Skye didn’t allow herself to look to Fitz, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She didn’t want to see the look on his face – he’d probably think she hadn’t mentioned her birthday because she didn’t expect him to do anything for it, and not because Skye just really, really didn’t like birthdays. She hadn’t had a lot of great ones (in fact, most of them were fabulously shitty), and expecting anyone to do anything was just setting herself up for disappointment. Besides, it seemed kind of selfish to ask everyone to celebrate her birthday when there were a lot more important things to be doing, like _saving the world from Nazis_.

Coulson looked like he was expecting her to say more, but Skye couldn’t think of anything _to_ say, so she just turned back to Fitz and tried to remember what they had been talking about before Coulson had come in. He seemed to take her dismissal in stride, ducking back out of the room without so much as a goodbye.

“You should have t-told me,” Fitz stuttered when Coulson had left. “I’d have m-made you a…” He frowned, the word obviously out of his reach, and Skye just smiled at him.

“It’s cool, Fitz. I don’t need presents.” What was she going to do with them, anyway? She had everything she needed. Honestly, just eating dinner with the team (minus Jemma, which kind of sucked) would be a better birthday celebration than the rest of her birthdays combined.

“Okay.” Fitz’s frown deepened but when Skye nudged him back to their previous conversation, he didn’t protest.

\---

“I’ve got the dishes!” Trip said, practically leaping out of his chair when dinner began to wind down.

“I’ll help,” Coulson said, also standing.

“Me too!” May added.

Skye furrowed her brow. “Uh, guys? I don’t think there are enough dishes for all three of you to do them.”

“It’ll go faster with three of us,” Trip said. For someone who worked for a super-secret organization, he was a really bad liar. Skye was just about to ask what was up when Trip slid out of the room. May and Coulson followed, not at all suspiciously. Skye rolled her eyes and turned back to the table. Mack gave her a ‘don’t look at me’ look, which of course made her look at him.

“What’s going on?” Skye probed.

“No clue.”

Coulson really ought to fire all his agents, because they were _really_ bad liars.

Two minutes later, Trip, May, and Coulson emerged from the kitchen where they had gone to wash the dishes. Or, it seemed, “wash the dishes”, because there were no clean dishes – but they were holding a cake with several illuminated candles.

Mack reached back to flip the lights, but the candles basked the room in a warm orangey glow.

“Happy birthday to you,” Coulson started singing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Skye, happy birthday to you!”

She was _not_ going to cry. She was _not_ going to cry, even though Skye was pretty sure that was the first time someone had ever sang her the birthday song with the correct name and everything. Trip set the cake in front of her, and she barely had time to register the sky-blue icing and the puffy white frosting clouds before Trip was urging her to blow out the candles and make a wish.

She didn’t know what to wish for – everything she wanted was right there in front of her.

Still, Skye closed her eyes, and the perfect wish sprang to her head.

_I wish every birthday was just like this one._

**4.**

The target was a Watchdog stronghold near New York City. Heavily guarded, but that wouldn’t be a problem. What _was_ a problem is money. They were being funded, and Daisy couldn’t figure out by whom. She had to find the Watchdog leader, or at least someone high enough up their ranks to know who it was, but so far she’d only found lackeys they’d given high-tech guns and told to go shoot up potential Inhuman refuges. The problem was that nearly everything was paper trails for the Watchdog organization. That or their security was unhackable. Another thing to add to the ever-growing list of questions. 

Another question: how did they know where Inhumans were? 

Daisy glanced out the window. It was nighttime, late enough that the streets were mostly quiet except for a few drunken civilians and the occasional barking dog. They wouldn’t be for long, though. SHIELD had been getting closer and closer to catching her these past few months and she couldn’t stay there. She knew they were onto her. They might even be preparing right now to get her. 

Maybe she could go to California after this. There was no doubt there were Watchdogs there - they were in almost every big city - and she could reach out to Polly and Robin, maybe even see Cal. She still owed Charles Hinton, after all. She made a promise to him and she intended to keep it. 

It was the only promise she could keep.

“Pieces solving a puzzle,” Daisy whispered, pinning up the next piece of information she had on the Watchdogs to her wall. After that, it was a question: how were they recruiting so many people in so little time, all across the country? All across the world? She’d seen evidence of Watchdogs in Russia, Japan, Italy… the list only got longer. 

She looked at the stack of papers next to her. Questions, notes, newspapers, checks, pictures… anything she’d found recently that had any allusion to the Watchdogs. 

_Pieces solving a puzzle. I think that’s beautiful._

Maybe there were too many pieces this time. 

Her arms ached as she reached toward the ceiling, trying to grab something off of the wall, and a part of her knew she didn’t just pull the muscles like she told Yo-Yo. Her bones were cracking. Jemma warned her about it. She should’ve taken her gauntlets, or the bone-healing meds that she knew were in the infirmary somewhere. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have left at all.

But if she didn’t leave, Coulson and May’s focus wouldn’t be on their safety in the field, it would be on hers. FitzSimmons, Mack, Yo-Yo… everyone was always focused on protecting her. They needed to protect themselves _from_ her. Gonzales was right about one thing. She was dangerous. And she was going to get her team killed. 

One of them had already suffered that fate. She couldn’t let anyone else. 

Daisy was startled out of her thoughts by the ringing of the big grandfather clock downstairs, twelve chimes as it let her know that it was a new day. 

It occurred to her that it wasn’t just any other day. 

It was July second. 

_It was a hot night, and for some reason, I decided to clean the house before I woke your father..._

“Happy birthday to me,” she muttered, looking out the window at the still-dark sky with twinkling stars beginning to fade. The sun wouldn’t rise for another few hours - by the time it did, Daisy would already be on the run - but the stars were fading rapidly, some blinking away every few seconds. 

The stars Lincoln died among.

_Daisy. That’s a lovely name._

She pulled on her beanie, fishnets, and a black jacket and fixed the smudges of eyeshadow around her eyes. Excessive jewelry, black ripped jeans, makeup to disguise the bruises on her arms that the fishnets and the jacket won’t cover. She wasn’t Daisy anymore. Daisy Johnson was dead. She died when Lincoln died. 

She was Quake now. And she had a job to do. 

**5.**

“Jesus,” Daisy muttered as she rifled through her desk on the Zephyr. “Kora, have you seen my –”

“It’s by your left hand,” her sister answered without even turning around. Daisy was sure Kora’s powers had nothing to do with finding things, but if she _hadn’t_ been sure, she would’ve had her suspicions. It was surprisingly easy to lose things even while on a plane floating through space, but Kora was a particularly good finder. She was a Hufflepuff like that.

(Kora did not understand that joke. Neither did Sousa. There were still a lot of things they both needed to learn before they were acceptable members of society.)

“Thank you!” Daisy called as she picked up the dongle that was attached to her temple and put her in the virtual reality call with the rest of her team.

“Sorry I’m late!” Daisy said the moment she connected. Leave it to her not to be on time to her own birthday party.

“A queen is never late,” May answered. Daisy grinned – at least one member of her family had some sort of pop culture acumen. Daisy was pretty sure Flint had something to do with that particular movie and _especially_ that particular quote making its way onto May’s radar, but no matter how it happened it was funny as hell.

“You doing anything special in space, Tremors?” Mack asked. The worst part about the virtual reality meeting space was that touching people never quite worked the way it should; Daisy missed Mack’s hugs, and they were the first thing she always came back for when she was on Earth for checkups or refuels.

“We forgot to get anything birthday-related last time we were home, so no,” Daisy said with a smile. “It’s alright though. This birthday’s already kind of weird.” Last year she didn’t think she’d have a boyfriend for her next birthday, and she _definitely_ didn’t think she’d have a sister. She’d gained a lot since her last birthday, and it was kind of cool that the world was no longer in imminent peril, either.

“We also have no idea when to celebrate Sousa’s birthday, or Kora’s,” she continued. “Because since we didn’t leave their time on their birthdays, it’s like – do we celebrate 365 days after their last birthday even though it’s not going to be on the same day, or on the date of their birth even though they haven’t lived a whole year yet? And that’s _without_ the whole thing of the different years and – wow, I’m totally rambling, aren’t I?”

“A little,” Coulson said, but his smile was fond. Everyone was smiling at her, actually, and Daisy was thrown back to that very first birthday with the rest of the team – the smiles on their faces, how happy they’d seemed just to celebrate with her.

It was funny, how the best part about her birthday still wasn’t celebrating getting older, but all the people she had found along the way that made it worth celebrating at all. Daisy almost couldn’t believe there had been a time when she didn’t look forward to birthdays, to a time to get together and eat cake and laugh and share stories and just _be_ together.

It was nice to have friends who still wanted to celebrate her birthday even when there was a universe between them.

It was nice to have a family. 

**+1**

“This is what, the third time I’ve crashed my funeral?” 

“You only had two funerals, and you weren’t alive for either of them,” May pointed out. 

“Technically, you aren’t alive now,” Daisy said. 

Coulson sighed. “Well, yeah, but - ” 

“At least you _got_ a funeral,” May continued. 

“You came back from the dead before we could have one.” 

“I - ”

“This isn’t a funeral. It’s my death day,” Daisy interrupted, displaying her old fashioned picnic basket. “And you promised we could have a death day picnic.” 

“I still don’t understand why you want to have a death day party,” May muttered, but she grabbed the blanket out of Daisy’s hands. 

“Not a _party_ , a _picnic_.” 

Coulson took the other edge of the blanket from May and together they spread out the blanket under a tree big enough to provide some shade. 

“Do you think we look crazy having a picnic in a cemetery?” Daisy asked conversationally as she spread out food across the blanket. She had noticed a few weird looks earlier today as they were walking through the aisles of gravestones. 

“Do you care?” May asked. 

Daisy grinned and threw her a sandwich. “Nope.” 

They sat in silence as May and Daisy ate. There were a lot of memories buried here, both literally and figuratively. 

“How’s the Academy?” Daisy asked quietly after a while. 

“It’s good. Flint’s my TA,” May replied. “He’s always late.” 

Daisy laughed. 

“I gave a guest lecture,” Coulson offered. “My name’s on Mack’s Wall of Valor twice, which confused a lot of people..” 

“You think they’ll be good agents?” 

“I do,” May said. “It’s… hard. They’re so innocent.” 

“Like we were,” Coulson reminded her. 

“That was a long time ago.” 

“Eh. You keep up pretty well.” 

“What about your team? Didn’t want to join in on the death day fun?” May asked Daisy. 

“I told them it was just us this time,” Daisy explained, taking May’s hand. May smiled back at her. “You think any of your Academy kids will want to join the space team?”

“I think a few of them would be up for the challenge.” 

“They’d all be starstruck,” Coulson added. “May always talks about you in class.” 

“Yes, I do,” May admitted. “Flint told them all that you’re my daughter.” 

Daisy wrapped her arms around her. “I’ll come to the Academy one day and tell them all the stories about my mom.” 

“I think Coulson beat you to it,” she said, but she hugged Daisy anyway. 

“Happy death day, Daisy,” Coulson said. 

“Thanks.” 

“Next time, can we have our picnic somewhere else?”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Kat!


End file.
